Behold Thy King
by Verasque
Summary: Tortall AU. The sudden outbreak of civil war threatens Lady Alanna's memory and amongst the chaos, she finds herself fleeing to another country unaware that it was the Crown Prince of Tortall by her side.
1. Chapter 1

**_Shorter chapters than WOL. Heavily OOC. Alternate Universe.  
Dedicated to Jonathan of Conté.  
_**  
Disclaimer – Song of the Lioness belongs respectively to Tamora Pierce

**CHAPTER ONE**

Alanna of Trebond was fourteen years old. Quietly, she sat to the side of the carriage, her hands gently folded in her lap, a gesture most unlike her. She watched the passing scenery with an acute eye, her purple orbs soaking up the minute details that everyone else would have dismissed otherwise.

The lushness of the Conté Plains was infinite. All her sight could take up was rich emerald grasslands that stretched to meet the sky in the boundless distance. She briefly wondered if the countryside was touched by magic. It seemed too perfectly groomed to have been cared for by people, and too _beautiful_ to not have been blessed by the Goddess of Earth and Tranquility.

She turned her head slightly only to catch her father looking at her peculiarly. She resisted the urge to roll her eyes, an act that would have had Lady Loucelle – Alanna's severely demure, but senile etiquette teacher – throwing a fit. She supposed her father was disbelieving of her serene behaviour, which was the one thing she was definitely not a suitable candidate of. Alanna had always been a rebellious, playful child.

And consequently, she took pleasure at the knowledge she had caught her uncaring father unawares. She suspected the slight ripple of his forehead would turn into a twitch. She smiled in amusement, but turned her head back to look out the window. It was a perfected act of female subtlety.

Alanna had always been at odds with the expectations placed on her. She never understood the reason why women had to abide by social conventions that only rendered them _powerless_. The men were given the dominance, and they were never criticized if they swayed from social behaviours deemed acceptable for males. With only her father as the principle male figure in her life, besides her brother, she believed that men took advantage of the power given to them, instead of honouring it like a god-given privilege.

A nudge to her knee brought her out of her thoughts. Across from her, she gave Thom an enquiring look, to which he replied with an interested grin. Careful not to spoil the silence that always dwelled between the three of them (the siblings and their father), her twin motioned with his eyes to the window they both were able to look out of.

Curious, and also expecting something silly – which wouldn't be surprising in the least, considering Thom's love for the abstract – she leaned forward so that her nose was almost touching the glass. She was expecting some magic-fused mockery of the country side, or even an illusion that ridiculed their father.

She found neither. Instead, what she saw made her heart skip its beat, and pound so hard against her chest that she was certain her heart was visibly physically thumping. No it was not by any part invoked by her sorcerer brother. There, grazing around what Alanna swore was the greenest part of the grasslands, were what appeared to be a hundred white clouds.

Squinting, she realised they were not clouds, but sheep. And standing in the middle of them all was a figure swathed in cream-coloured robes. The wind whipped harshly across the open grass expanse, and it thrashed the figure's robes around him wildly. Alanna, who had learned much from Lady Loucelle despite popular belief, was instantly reminded of the Arabian lands, and the mysteries surrounding that distant, intangible culture.

Enraptured she held her breath as the figure – clearly male – lifted his head and looked at the small, fancy carriage that passed by him. But more directly he stared at the young girl whose large violet eyes were locked on him. His black hair brushed over his eyes, and the rest of his hair was covered by the cloth wrapped around his head. He had tanned skin, a face chiseled to rival that of Adonis, and the deepest ocean blue eyes, Alanna had ever seen.

A shepherd! Alanna realised. The man, whose gaze was still locked with hers, smiled mysteriously at her. At that moment - her heart started beating to a new rhythm, and she was convinced that Thom must have conjured him up.

There was no man on Earth that could ever look that perfect.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer – Song of the Lioness belongs respectively to Tamora Pierce

**CHAPTER TWO**

They traveled for another hour before they reached their destination. As the carriage drew inside of the grand silver gate, Alanna gasped, her hand automatically coming to rest upon her throat. The Conté Royal Estate went on for hectares, and now in front of them stood the heart of it.

The Conté Manor was a magnificent white mansion that clearly housed three levels. It was structured as a strong demi-castle, all stately and imposing. What was so remarkable about it was the large proportion of glass that gleamed brightly in the mid-day sun. The linings of the windows, the doors and the pillars were all onyx-black, that Alanna found it near impossible to believe that such architecture existed.

She could only imagine what lay in its interior. Judging from just the outer façade, she knew it would be nothing less than breathtaking and highly cultured. She was left surprised that such a thing could make her so speechless, but she supposed the past hour had been full of _exotic appearances_. Trebond, it seemed, was naught compared to the world outside its borders.

The next few minutes had them all out of the carriage and ascending the front steps. Someone rapped the ornate metal door-knock loudly, and after a moment's wait, the huge black door swung open from inside. A tall, lean elderly man, evidently part of the staff, ushered them inside. She allowed the footmen to carry her bags inside, but she noticed that Thom was not as gracious.

The people here were yet to get accustomed to Thom's finicky nature about anything that related to his beloved magic, significantly the large volumes of spells Alanna guessed that were packed in his bags.

As she entered, she held in her gasp as she glimpsed the foyer. Everything inside the Manor was set in marble! The ceilings were high, and the room spacious. Alanna was afraid to continue walking in case she dirtied the shiny floor. Someone chuckled warmly, and Alanna's head snapped up in embarrassment. A middle aged woman now stood in front of them, wearing a long navy blue dress, with a white cotton cap holding her hair – that commonly veiled a woman's hair. Her hair was held high in a tight bun, and was slightly streaked with grey.

Her warm, welcoming smile far outshone her appearance. Alanna decided she liked this woman. She introduced herself as Aula, the housemaid in charge. Alanna found it surprising that a _maid_ could talk in perfect Common. She had always assumed that nobles were the educated ones. Yet again – Trebond seemed even dafter in comparison. Their father excused himself to look at their rooms. She and Thom stayed behind and continued to walk with Aula. Thom asked if there were any other children present at the household, beside them.

"I've been here a long time, child." She smiled at them, "To answer your question – yes there will be other children staying during the summer. Since the King has taken interest in your father's volumes, the princes and the young princess has taken upon themselves to stay the summer. They haven't been here in some time."

"The entire Royal Family?" Alanna asked in awe.

Aula chuckled. "Yes. In fact, the eldest prince already arrived here a few days ago. We're expecting the other two to arrive here with their Majesties either tomorrow, or the day next."

Suddenly, as if on cue, a tall boy burst into the room and flung his arms extravagantly around Aula. He kissed the stunned woman's cheek, and showered her with praises. Aula beamed at him, a clear motherly affection for him evident in her happy and proud gaze.

When Aula asked what the boy was doing there – Alanna got confused. Didn't the housemaid say the prince had already been there a few days?

The boy turned to them – and Alanna froze. It was him! The same chiseled face, striking features and handsome exterior. But his skin was much paler than she remembered, his body leaner, his face smoother, his look younger, and his eyes! Maybe she had mistaken them earlier. Because now he had blue eyes that were so light that they were almost silver.

"This is the Prince of Tortall."

Alanna was struck dumb, as her heartbeat drummed louder in her ears. She completely failed to remember her manners, and so forgot to curtsey in respect. _A prince!_ She thought, _a prince!_


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer – Song of the Lioness belongs respectively to Tamora Pierce

**CHAPTER THREE**

The prince was staring back at her curiously. Alanna willed herself not to blush, and to her surprise the voice that greeted him did not reflect her inner nervousness. Her voice had come out steady, and distinctly feminine. She guessed Thom and Aula were surprised too by the swift change in her demeanor.

Aula just looked amused, "Your Highness, this young lady is Alanna of Trebond."

The prince offered Alanna a smile and a nod, and then turned to the older woman. "Aula, I've told you many times to drop the _Highness_." He looked back at Alanna with a roll of his eyes, and Alanna giggled. Thom looked sharply at his sister trying to remember when the first time was that she had ever _giggled_. The answer was never. It was common knowledge that Alanna did not possess traits of blushing, peachy maidens.

Soon the doors burst open once again and a small black and yellow blur dashed into the room, heading straight for Aula. The woman laughed, and Alanna and Thom watched as the blur – which was really a young raven haired girl in a yellow cloak – hugged the housemaid tightly, and her small young voice spoke in a rush.

"Aula! Aula! I'm back! I'm back! And I've missed you so, so, _so_ much! Look at my cloak, Aula! Isn't it so pretty? It's because it's the one _you_ gave me last Midwinter!"

"My sister, Danae." The prince informed the twins, while Aula showered more love upon yet another Royal child. Alanna smiled; for the young Princess absolutely _shined_ with exuberance and sunshine, and it was largely infectious.

"How old is she?" Thom asked.

"She's turning seven in the spring."

"She looks a handful." Thom commented with a smile.

The prince nodded, "Sisters always are." Then, sharing a look with Thom, the two boys burst out laughing. Alanna only pouted.

Danae and Aula were now looking to the boys. "What is it? What's so funny!" Danae asked, face looking eager to participate in the amusement.

The boys only chuckled more, and Danae cocked up an eyebrow as much as six-year-olds could. It was then that Alanna noticed how much the Prince looked younger. She guessed he was the same age, and she couldn't understand why she had imagined him to be much older – while he was out in the fields earlier. Laughing with Thom, the prince looked older by only a year. Sixteen most likely.

"They were discussing their shared experienced with younger sisters." Alanna relayed, but one look at the small girl's confused face had Alanna calling herself an idiot inwardly. She was only six years old! Alanna quickly re-explained, "What I mean is that they're laughing at you and me. They say we're a pain." _In the neck_, Alanna was about to add, but she supposed that educated girls did not speak in such a manner.

Danae huffed, and crossed her small arms. "Well it just means you aren't man enough to keep up! We're so much better than you anyway!" and she smiled smugly at the two boys who had now stopped laughing.

Alanna's throat bubbled up with laughter. _Did a six-year-old girl just say all that to a pair of adolescent boys?_ As if sensing Alanna's thoughts, the young princess turned back in Alanna's direction and smiled proudly. But the girl's smile soon turned into a look of contemplation as she realised – and Alanna realised – that Danae only then became aware that there were people in the room that she didn't know.

The prince cleared his throat, and introduced them to his sister. Aula, noticing the now crowded room, shooed them out, and ordered the Prince to give them a tour of the Manor. Thom, Alanna noticed, was walking beside the Prince – and guessed that both boys had suddenly striked up a new friendship. This was what made Alanna surprised as a small hand suddenly slipped into hers.

Looking down she met the same blue-silver eyes. "I like your hair." Reaching up onto her tiptoes, Danae touched the long, straight titian locks, "It's so silky. And I can't tell if its red or gold."

Alanna smiled, noting that the girl nearly reached her shoulder, "That's the big mystery. In the sun its gold, and for every other time its red."

"Really? I want my hair to be like that."

"Your hair's already beautiful the way it is." She convinced Danae.

"If you say so, Alanna!" Then grabbing her hand more forcefully, the princess tugged Alanna along to the next part of the tour. They climbed a spiral staircase and reached the second floor. It was an open space which was surrounded by glass windows. The Prince and Thom were already there, and with ease, Alanna was pulled to the largest window. From their they had a spectacular view of the grasslands.

Unconsciously Alanna turned to look at the Prince. Looking at his handsome profile, she wondered why her heart wasn't speeding up as she expected. She didn't turn into a pool of mud on the floor each time he smiled.

The prince turned to look into her eyes, and she felt her cheeks flame. Mithros, but how handsome he was!

Colour shifted in his eyes. A force grew between them, and Alanna's breath hitched, as if getting ready for a big explosion…a supernova. But a noise coming up the stairs broke into the silence, and Alanna grew irritated at being interrupted.

She turned to the intruder, a scowl on her face.

A tall, commanding figure stood at the top of the stairs. He was clothed in cream coloured breaches, and a long white shirt. Slung across his broad shoulders was a cream robe. In his hand was a turban. His skin was clearly tanned, and he exuded raw masculinity. Alanna swallowed, afraid to look at his face, because if the heat engulfing her body wasn't a signal – then she might as well be dead, and burned.

In the split second, Danae's shriek of delight splintered into the air so fiercely, "Jon! **Jon!**"

With energy she never knew the young princess had, Danae jumped onto the figure, her small arms tightly embracing the neck of the white-clad man. He grunted, and with a deep chuckle hugged the little girl close. Gently he kissed the girl's forehead, and she giggled before kissing his cheek in return.

The prince beside her greeted the newcomer.

Still holding Danae, the white-clad man looked up and Alanna's bones melted. Her mouth dried up, as ocean-blue eyes locked onto the Prince and he grinned in salute.

"Raiden."

The Prince walked forward and in an instance he and the white-clad figure were embracing, their hands slapping each others shoulders, clearly familiar with each other.

The Prince – _Raiden_ – then turned to Alanna. By now Alanna had found the answer as to why her heart hadn't sped up when she looked at him, and why she hadn't turned into a pool of mud at his feet. It was because of the man standing beside him.

The same features. The same resemblance.

But with an older face, a more masculine figure, and stormy blue eyes that were nowhere near even being silver. The biggest difference was that now, Prince Raiden was only a boy. A boy compared to this man. And the intensity she had thought existed mere seconds ago between Prince Raiden and herself turned into dust.

Because now _**he**_ was here, _the shepherd_, in front of her – every bit how she remembered. As mysterious. As commanding. As devastatingly attractive. The impact left her momentarily dizzy, and she reached out a hand to Thom's arm to steady herself.

With a fateful rush of bubbling words that always accompanied her youthful excitement, Danae didn't disappoint in filling Alanna and Thom in about the shepherd.

"This is my other brother – Jonathan! But I like to call him Jon, and he always calls me 'Princess'. He's the best brother to me and Raiden! Jon always let's me sit on his shoulders! Most of the time he takes me with him when he's working in the fields. He's going to be King one day too. Because of that, Mama keeps lining up all these girls for him to marry. But Jon said that I'll always be the only special girl in his life, and that I have to like the girl before she can become Jon's wife. He's _a whole _eighteen years old, and he'll be turning nineteen soon! Even though he's old, but not as old as Papa, he really isn't. You'll like him. Everyone always does." The little princess paused, and then her eyes lit up.

What she said next was clearly the result of the logic, and assumption, of a child. "Jon don't you think Alanna's pretty? I think she's very, very pretty! Her hair is so beautiful! I know! Jon you can marry her because her hair is so nice! I give her my consent!"

And deaf silence greeted the girl's idea. A six year old _consents_ her?

Goddess, Alanna thought, before she fell into a dead faint.

-

**AN:** _To clear any confusion – the prince Alanna had met at the end of the last chapter is Jonathan's younger brother, Raiden. Alanna clearly mistook that fact, for Jon and Raiden look strikingly alike except for some small differences. In this chapter Jon has finally made his reappearance._


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer – Song of the Lioness belongs respectively to Tamora Pierce

**CHAPTER FOUR**

The darkness reigned for an agonizing minute. Slowly she became aware of a soft buzzing sound, which, as the seconds dragged on, she realised were hushed voices. Her eyelids felt heavy, but she gradually forced them open.

Bright sunlight blinded her momentarily. She could feel herself supported by something warm, and a tiny hand held one of hers. Curious, she lifted her eyelids and was met by twin stormy blue orbs. Shocked, she found that no sound came out of her mouth when she tried to speak. _Was she dreaming?_

But the shepherd said something to a person beside her, and sounds Alanna didn't register earlier made her realise that she was very much awake.

Turning her head, she discovered that it was Danae clasping her left hand. Alanna squeezed the little girl's hand, and Danae beamed. Two additional male voices – one whom she recognised as her brother's – entered the room.

"You fainted." The shepherd told her gently, "Here, drink this."

Still puzzled, Alanna allowed him and Danae to pull her upright into a sitting position. Gathering her bearings, Alanna held the tankard lightly and took a sip.

Bopping on her knees, Danae said, "You're drinking from my brother's tankard."

Embarrassed, Alanna nearly dropped it. She stopped her hand from allowing that, and scolded herself. _You could have spilt it all over the marble floor!_ Catching her eye, Jonathan of Tortall gave her a winning smile.

"It's no problem. It seems it was the only closest, available water Raiden could find." He said it so softly, and in such a way that Raiden, who was standing behind his brother, blushed without Jonathan having to look at him. Jonathan winked at her, and Alanna blushed. _He sure was something,_ she thought.

Raiden coughed, and said indignantly "Well it was much longer to go to the kitchens. You said to get water immediately. We thought something might happen to her if we took the long way."

Thom, who had been silent, tentatively asked, "Are you alright, Alanna?"

Finding her voice, she nodded at her brother. "Yes, I'm fine now."

Thom and Raiden both looked relieved. Jonathan of Tortall, on the other hand, held a bemused look on his face. Danae, the ever observant princess, remarked with a giggle, "You're still in Jon's arms, Alanna!"

Alanna froze out of mortification, and she suspected that the deep rumbling of the body she was leaning against meant that the Crown Prince was largely amused. Funny enough, he didn't make a move to nudge her. Alanna took pleasure in that small fact.

Thom was looking at her oddly. She realised that her current position was inappropriate. Here she was, leaning against the heir to the throne! And she didn't even know him. Jonathan must have noticed it too – because he helped her stand on her feet. The clasp of his hand around her arm sent small tingles down her spine.

Tired of being ignored, Danae suddenly started jumping where she stood. A cheeky grin was plastered on the girl's mouth, and her eyes sparkled with mischief. Both amused and nervous, Alanna readied herself for another comment from Danae that would probably embarrass Alanna once more.

"It's perfect, Jon! She has pretty hair, and when she fell – _you_ caught her. I like her a lot, too. _Please,_ Jon! Don't you think Alanna's pretty? Now you can marry her."

Thom suddenly started coughing, and by the looks of his smarting face, Alanna guessed he was as disbelieving of Danae's pleading. His reaction was quite different to his sister's. Unlike Alanna – whose cheeks were flushed – Thom couldn't quite comprehend the thought of his sister marrying _anyone_ at all. Let alone Prince Jonathan of Tortall!

Concerned, Raiden started slapping Thom's back. When that refused to halt Thom's choking fit, he gave Alanna and his other two siblings an apologetic look before he led Thom out of the room.

Alanna looked to her remaining two companions. Danae was unfazed by what had just happened, and didn't think anything of what she had just said. Endearingly, she leaned closer to her eldest brother – and taking hold of one of his hands into both of her own – she rubbed her cheek against the back of his hand. Jonathan looked down at his sister's head and smiled warmly before kissing the top of her raven locks.

Something significant trembled in Alanna's stomach at the sight. Then, without notice, Danae suddenly bounced back into life and smirking, she stared at her brother stubbornly.

"Marry her Jon!"

Surprised, and realizing his sister's impertinence, Jonathan of Tortall gave a smirk of his very own. His next words made the thumping of her heart beat erratically.

"Princess, I think she's beautiful too. But I don't think we should be thinking about marriage so soon. Alanna and I haven't really talked yet."

Danae pouted. "Aw. But you will tell me when you do, isn't it?"

Jonathan smiled. "Of course. I promise you'll be the first to know."

Danae hugged her brother fiercely. Then twirling to face Alanna, she nodded enthusiastically, "Yes! You two should talk now. That way Jon can hurry up and make his mind so he can ask you to marry him!"

Jonathan laughed. Then he turned to Alanna, his eyes like melted sapphires in the light. "What do you say, Alanna?" he said, his face so open with invitation. Clearly he was joking about them getting married. But to satisfy Danae, and perhaps get to know each other either way, Jonathan of Tortall – _the shepherd_ – was allowing her entry into his mysterious life.

Alanna's dry throat suddenly found voice, "I'd like that."

A genuine smile danced on Jonathan's face, while Danae cheered, before linking hands with both her brother and Alanna.


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer – Song of the Lioness belongs respectively to Tamora Pierce

**CHAPTER FIVE**

Before Alanna knew it, three months had passed. What those few special months became for her was a golden summer – one she knew she would never forget. She had loved every minute of it, where her days were spent in the company of the three royal children and her brother.

Thom and Raiden had struck up a close friendship, and the two were often up to no good. Many of the time, they played pranks and pulled hoaxes. With Thom's magic, and Raiden's knowledge of the Estate, they effectively instigated much havoc. They resembled a pair of little boys, rather than two noble young gentlemen. It became common for Aula to reprimand them, but both boys charmed the woman to the point that she only came to pamper them more.

Many afternoons saw the two boys sitting in the back kitchens, where they ravaged the dishes and snacks Aula made specially for them. When Alanna asked, Aula only winked at her and said her customary "Oh they're growing boys, lass. Jonathan was like that also a few years ago." Then the robust housemaid would look at Alanna's slight frame with a meaningful eye, and say "You're far too skinny, dear."

Alanna smiled whimsically when she thought of Aula. A part of her missed being greeted by the woman in the early morning. Now, there was no one except for the servants, and Thom had been locked up in his room ever since they returned to Trebond four days ago. She hadn't seen much of her father either, only during meal times – and that was even fewer since she chose to skip meals.

She walked outside and neared Chubby's stall in the yard. As she stroked the hair on his mane, she was reminded of a small, raven-haired girl who had commented on Alanna's own hair the very first time they met. Danae had been in tears when she realised that Alanna and Thom had to leave. Alanna found herself sniffing, because the small girl had managed to make her way into Alanna's affections. During the summer, Danae would always tag along with her and to the red-head's amusement – Danae was constantly by Prince Jonathan's side. Or rather _Jonathan's_ side. Alanna's chest warmed when she thought of how the Prince had politely asked her to drop the formalities she insisted on keeping even after three weeks of their arrival to the Conté Estate.

Every morning after she had spent breakfast talking to Aula, Alanna would accompany Jonathan down to the fields. Each time Danae would be present, holding Alanna's hand until she started getting bored, and insisted to sit on Jonathan's shoulders, or ride on his back for the rest of the way. They never rode the horses, and Alanna came to appreciate walking along the beautiful countryside, and even more so, alongside the Crown Prince and young Princess. _I had the best company in the world,_ she reflected.

It was during this time that she had gotten to know Jonathan of Conté. Until she bid him goodbye, he still remained a mystery to her. He seemed to be amused by her, and was forever surprising her.

When Alanna had slipped on some undergrowth surrounding one of the rare oases, her leg had gotten a cut so deep that she felt faint at the sight of so much blood. Danae, strangely enough, had gone quiet and was staring intently at the rich, dark red that was slipping down Alanna's leg. Suddenly, Jonathan had appeared at Alanna's side and gently slipping his arms under her knees and back, he scooped her up and deposited her carefully on a flat, soft part of the grass well away from the oasis.

At the same time, he instructed Danae to get their water tankard, and as she fetched that, he talked to Alanna in hushed tones to keep her conscious. With Danae's return, he used his robe as a cloth, and pouring water, he cleaned the cut. In seconds flat, he unwrapped the turban on his head and was binding it around Alanna's leg. Alanna was far too thankful, and in pain, to even notice that her stockings were ripped, and a bare leg was exposed. Jonathan simply ignored it, and only cared for the girl's safety. The incident cut their day short, and with Danae as a guide, Jonathan set out to the Manor – Alanna in his arms the whole way back despite her protests. But he chose to ignore them as well, instead chatting with Danae and keeping his sister giggling about stories of his childhood; while Alanna rested quietly against his upper body, listening to them.

When she thought she had him figured out, he would do something that would throw her off balance. He managed to always get her in a rioting bundle of nerves, but nothing _ever_ stoked him. Jonathan was permanently in control – regardless if he was in Prince, friend, or shepherd role. But despite his strength, he regarded them all with a softness and respect that had her in awe. He was the epitome of a perfect man, and his character possessed so many contradictions that it made him more enigmatic.

But she knew he wasn't perfect.

Although he was the master of a flock, commanding the obedience of every subject – he was uneasy in his position as Crown Prince commanding his _people_. It was a flaw Alanna found impossible to understand for days on end; that someone as confident and absolute as Jonathan was vexed in his role to command order.

He didn't hide this blemish from those around him; instead he chose to accept their advice. But it wasn't enough. He didn't have the problem of speaking in front of millions. "It's this feeling. Confidence isn't enough. Neither is empathy, patience, compassion, initiative, _strength_." Jonathan had confided in her. "It's power. It doesn't scare me, but something about it holds me back. Power makes me want to remain here at the Estate forever, and never gain the throne. It is inescapable, Alanna. Even in liberty - and weakness - does power exist."

Chubby's scoffing brought her thinking back to the present. Without the aid of a stable boy, Alanna managed to secure her saddle. Swinging up on Chubby's back she guided him to Maude's home. The woman had moved apart from the Trebond Manor when Alanna began her training at the Convent nearly five years ago. Curious, Alanna watched as a large group of men entered the town square. In response, the owner of the tavern – Hessem – whom Alanna recognised, came out of the bar and greeted the newcomers. There were no grins, salutes or customary hand clasping in greeting. It looked very grim, and they were beginning to attract the attention of the villagers.

Alanna dismissed it. She wasn't interested in the affairs of middle-class village men.


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer – Song of the Lioness belongs respectively to Tamora Pierce

**CHAPTER SIX**

Maude had a grey look on her face.

Alanna paused at the doorway as she took in the absence of usual sternness in the older woman's expression. Maude hurried Alanna into her home before she shut the door behind them loudly. By routine, Alanna took off her cloak and hung it on one of the numerous large hooks on the wall. Disposing of her boots, Alanna curled her bare toes into the fur of the floor and sighed in pleasure. It had cost a fortune for Maude to obtain the extensive fur rug that lined most of the timber floors. Maude had healed the dying heir of a wealthy Baron a year before, and in return the Baron had handed Maude a gracious pouch of gold nobles.

She gave a sum to Alanna's father as a gift of courtesy, and the rest the woman used towards fixing up her home and creating it into a healer's comfortable residence. Many of the village people, and the townsmen often came to Maude, and left with benevolent comments. Alanna made it a point to visit her every week to keep company. Maude, after all, was the only motherly figure in the girl's life. It made sense.

Today, however, Alanna knew something was bothering the woman. Following quietly, she entered the kitchen where she they both sat down. Alanna reached for two cups, and Maude poured some herbal tea. Fixing Maude with a meaningful stare, the woman stared back before she let out a tired sigh.

"Nothing's wrong with me personally, Alanna." Maude spoke into the silence.

"Then what is it?"

Maude leaned her elbows on the edge of the table, hands clasped beneath her chin. "I'm not sure if you're aware, but there has been growing numbers of meetings between the workers and village men recently. It's quite a concern."

Alanna shook her head. "No I didn't notice. I suppose because I've been gone the whole summer – I'm still in that lazy mind set. But when I was riding up here, I saw some of them meeting Hessem near the Chesire Tavern. I didn't know it was something serious." She sipped her tea.

"It is, dear. What makes it so bothersome is that it's not only here that these meetings have been happening. It's quite frequent in other fiefs, as well."

Alanna frowned. "Why are they meeting? Is something wrong?"

"The villagers are restless. You know that the land taxes have increased greatly in the last two years. The farmers and workers aren't too fond of this, because they're barely able to feed their own families. Also the Royal Council banned the Public Councils that represent each fief. That doesn't allow anyone to put forward their concerns to the monarchy."

"But why now? This problem has been this way since months ago. Why are the villagers moving now?"

Maude looked at a loss for words. "I don't know, Alanna. What I understand is that if this gets more complicated, there's going to be great trouble."

Alanna's heart started racing. "You mean the people are going to do something?"

"Yes. I think it could become a Rebellion. There are more people than we can imagine who are growing dissatisfied. They're blaming King Roald for these problems."

"No!" Alanna gasped. "King Roald is a good man, Maude! I can tell you because I spent the summer in his company! He values highly the welfare of his people."

Maude put a soothing hand on Alanna's arm. "Sit down, child. You are right - he is a good man, but the villagers never have the chance to see that. I suspect it is His Majesty's _council_ that has caused for this to happen. They most likely persuaded him to consent to the new taxes law."

"But _why?_"

"Authority, Alanna. I always believed that they don't want Roald on the throne. Why else would they do something that obviously makes the people discontent? It's a clear scheme to have the people blame King Roald."

Maude looked tired. There was weariness in her eyes but she continued to drink her tea, oblivious to the suddenly restless girl opposite her. Alanna pursed her lips, anxious and confused.


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer – Song of the Lioness belongs respectively to Tamora Pierce

**CHAPTER SEVEN**

It was almost dark by the time Alanna reached home. Although she had spent most of the day with Maude, they didn't speak of matters concerning the recent domestic and political situation any further. Perhaps it was to put an end to the obvious anxiety Maude was feeling, but Alanna still remained troubled by the news.

A silly part of herself wanted to send message to Jonathan, or better yet King Roald. But she rationalised that the Royal family were now back in residence in Corus, the capital, and she held little information of the events transpiring in the bigger span of things. She needed to know more!

The problem was how she was going to do exactly that. No one particularly paid much attention or gave exclusive importance to Lord Alan's daughter. As far as most of the villagers were concerned, Alanna of Trebond had recently left the convent and taken up a more independent role aside from her studies. They would probably be less enthusiastic to talk to her after knowing that her family had just spent the summer in the King's presence.

Alanna's more passionate nature caused her to suddenly stamp her foot rather childishly. She hated feeling helpless, and in turn, this helplessness confused her. The Alanna before the summer would have cared less about what was happening. However, after meeting _and _spending time with King Roald, Queen Lianne, and even more so their children—Alanna's nerves were in a nervous tangle.

She had to find her father.

Alanna couldn't decide if she was to feel disappointed or unsurprised when she found that her father was absent. She ignored the maid who was blurting out excuses for her father; and instead looked around his study for any documents or letters that may give her some answers to feed her quest for understanding.

The maid hovered behind Alanna, stringing stuttering sentences that Alanna could barely decipher. When the maid began trying to usher her out of her father's study, Alanna stood still and told the maid that because her father wasn't there, she'd do things herself.

"But, my lord specifically ordered that no one disturb his study, even if it was you or Master Thom."

Alanna was starting to get annoyed. "It's father's problem that he isn't around when I need him. I'm only doing what he told me to do; being initiative and being independent. Besides, please respect me and my actions."

The maid bowed her head slightly. "But, my lady—"

"You're dismissed." The cold, arrogant voice that spoke that command was one Alanna always avoided and hated using. She thought that nobles such as herself, especially when one was a lady, should be respectful to the servants and maids. They were after all what kept households and castles running.

The maid froze and with a sudden lowering of her eyes, bowed to Alanna before quietly exiting the study. Alanna winced and immediately hated herself. _But I'm doing this for the sake of national stability!_

She moved with ease and shuffled through the piles of paper on her father's desk. Most of the documents related to Trebond and its debts, as well as the monthly report on the fief's progress. Alanna skimmed the report further, before she found the agriculture statement. It mentioned the slowing of progress, and a sharp decline in crop output. The writer of the report bravely linked this decline to the growing work stoppage of most of the farmers and the village workers.

Because of this, Trebond would be or _was_ suffering. Without any sufficient earnings being made, the level of tax to be paid increased—tax that her father had to pay, as well as tax that individual families were required to contribute. _"You know that the land taxes have increased greatly in the last two years"_ was what Maude had told her earlier. Alanna's brows fused together. Then where was all the money coming from? What was now sustaining them, and keeping the tax collectors from barging into Trebond?

The summer with the Conte family! Her father was one of the official writers for the monarchy, and the King was paying him generously because of that. This realisation led Alanna to wonder, was that the only reason that they were welcomed and hence treated…so warmly?


	8. Chapter 8

_This chapter is actually a lot longer, but I had to chop it in half to correspond to the general sizes of the chapters in this fic. I'll be putting up the next part very soon, so look out for that! Expect a major shift in the structure of the story and the plot in two or so chapters' time. Now onto the action… _

Disclaimer – Song of the Lioness belongs respectively to Tamora Pierce

**CHAPTER EIGHT**

Her father didn't return for three days. Whether Alanna held any qualms about the seriousness to the events occurring around her, they were dashed by her father's long absence. When Lord Alan returned, he refused to speak to anyone, even her. He went as far as to lock the door to his study, and he forbade any talk about the growing conflict of the Rebellion in the household. Not that it put a stop to the whispers between the servants and maids, rather it increased it tenfold.

After hearing the official word of the movement being given the name _the_ _Rebellion_, all Alanna wanted to do was hide in her room and wish it all away. There hadn't been a civil conflict in Tortall for nearly a hundred years. It was dangerous and frightening and if matters escalated into violence…she could lose her father, Thom and all those she cared about if they weren't careful. She could lose _her life_, especially when the enemy were the very people that walked around her everyday!

She couldn't imagine those fathers, sons and even wives and mothers who supported this movement. How could normal citizens place their families in danger?

It was the Royal Council to blame, she thought, remembering Maude's explanation. She hated the fact that the people with power – the members of Roald's council, the same senile old men who still lived in the past – would use their power for malicious purposes, and betray the King like this. She was pacing the hall, when she heard loud voices coming from downstairs. Curious, she wondered who could be visiting at the current time.

The voices hushed, but there could be no mistaking the loudening of the footsteps ascending the stairs to her right. A maid was talking rather loudly, explaining impatiently that Lord Alan did not wished to be disturbed, but that he had instructed her to lead them – the visitors – straight into the study room if they stopped by. Slightly angered that these men would be allowed to see her father, and she – _his daughter_ – was not given the same freedom, she stalked to her father's room at the end of the hall, directly opposite the stairs.

Without thought, she lifted her arm and rapped harshly on the door to his study. She heard his gruff, "Yes?" before she said her name loud and clear.

He answered as she expected. "Alanna, now is not the time."

"But father!" she _almost_ pleaded out of desperation.

"No." Was the firm reply, a word Alanna shouldn't have been disappointed at hearing, since she had been a seasoned veteran to hearing that exact word from her father for as long as she remembered.

"Lord Alan." A deep, guttural voice boomed from behind.

Alanna twirled in surprise, suddenly remembering their guests. Finally in their presence face to face, Alanna felt the room shrink at the sheer size of their visitors. They towered over her small frame easily, and there was no hiding the large muscles or beefed body. The three men were clothed the same, a distinct red and gold uniform declaring themselves as palace guards.

The one on the left gave her a pointed look, and she realised that she was blocking the door of her father's study. The very same door that was now wide open, revealing the study and the books and scattered papers littering the floor and desk. Her father was standing near a bookcase, his face taut and anxious as he looked to their visitors. His sudden attention to her presence conveyed a clear unspoken message: _we will discuss matters later. This, right now, is of immediate importance._

Worried by the sudden fierceness and apprehensiveness in her father's eyes, she backed away automatically thus allowing their visitors to enter the room. Her eye-contact with her father remained unwavering until the heavy door slammed shut. Her determination to talk with Lord Alan diminished immediately, and a strange sort of clamminess attacked her arms and spine. What palace guards were doing in Trebond remained a question; but Alanna knew the answer lay behind those closed doors.

Was it to do with the Rebellion?

Heading to the stairs, she gnawed on her lower lip.

"Alanna!" Thom's harried voice broke into the hallway.

Looking up, she saw her brother's hair all messed up, and his eyes bright as he reached the top of the staircase. However, what really bothered Alanna were the two messily packed bags he carried.

Her voice came out hoarse and demanding. "Thom? What's going on? Why do you ha—"

The sound of the study door thumping open interrupted her. Turning around, her breath lodged into her throat as she glimpsed the crazily, terrible expression on her father's face.


	9. Chapter 9

_Sorry for that cliffy, so to make it up to you here's the (longer!) continuation of the last chapter. I just wanted to remind you that there will be an abrupt change in the story next chapter – whether in structure or content or POV, or a mix of all these – we'll see. As _**Arianla**_ commented, the last chapter (and also this one) is/are a major turning point in the story! Thanks for all your kind reviews, guys._

Disclaimer – Song of the Lioness belongs respectively to Tamora Pierce

**CHAPTER NINE**

Alan's eyes quickly scanned over both of his children, a fear crowding his gaze as he looked at them with something akin to…tenderness. It was a tenderness that contradicted the trouble and dread rising around them.

He gave her a small smile, one filled with a comforting softness that she had never seen him direct to her, but had wished for countless times. His voice shook at his next words. "You will both go with Arundel, without question. It will take you two hours to ride to the hidden road from here that will lead you to the restricted passageway connected to the shelters. I want you both to stay there until the guards deem it secure enough to move. You will be safe there for the time being."

Her mouth felt very dry. "Father, I don—"

"You will go with your brother, Alanna. Mithros knows when danger will arrive here, and it will be soon. Please don't be stubborn, not now. I need you to be safe, as I organise the evacuation of our home."

"You will follow after us, won't you?" Alanna felt rather than heard the trepidation in Thom's smoothly delivered words.

Their father nodded. Thom let out a small relieved breath. No matter Lord Alan's disposition to act coldly and detached when around them, he was their father, and his sudden show of concern and sincere _love_ was making them feel and act how they should have been all these years and how they should be now…like a family. The events surrounding them only added more stoke to this fire.

"Did something happen? Is it the Rebellion?" Alanna demanded, the Rebellion the only thing she could think of to cause such deeds as fleeing and an evacuation of Trebond. She wondered if her father could really handle such a task. 

"One of the Rebellion representatives has been shot, my lady. They linked the murderer as someone working for the Monarchy." One of the men, whom she assumed was Arundel, answered her. "But now isn't the time to tell stories. We must move quickly, if we're to avoid any hunters."

The word _hunters_ didn't sound too appealing. While she was trying to digest the information given to her, Thom's arm around her shoulders was now pushing her towards the stairs. Suddenly feeling lost, she swivelled her head around to look at her father. He was watching them sadly, still like a statue…like the father she and Thom were accustomed to. Tears brimmed in her eyes when she saw Alan put a hand over his heart as he looked at them a last time.

In an instant he disappeared from her view, and she was conscious that large and strong arms were pulling her onto a saddle. She could hear Arundel grumbling as he did so. Gathering herself, she moved to be comfortable on the saddle, and gripped the reins instinctively.

As they moved out, Alanna speculated in worry for Maude's safety. Was the older woman safe? Did she know what was happening? From her side, Thom reached over and held her hand, as if reading her thoughts. "She's going to be alright, 'Lanna. Father wouldn't let anything happen to her."

Alanna could only nod. 

Three and a quarter hours later, Alanna protested at the ache pulsing at the bottom of her spine. They were riding fiercely and without rest, their brown cloaks billowing behind them, as if furious wolves were at their tails. Alanna purposely stopped herself from thinking about her father and home. She didn't want to believe that she may never return to that small village she had grown up in. She didn't want to believe that there may not _be_ a home to return to after all this was over.

Where did all the time go? How was it that after spending a wonderful summer under the sun and enjoying it with beautiful company; she had returned to reality only to find herself seeking refuge during an apparent civil conflict? 

Much rougher pounding of hoofs, like thunder on the dirt road, broke her out of her thoughts. The quick sound of a blade sliding out of its sheath forced Alanna to halt abruptly in panic. Looking around, she saw that a band of four men – all dressed in drab colours – were surrounding Arundel, Thom and herself. One of the four men was carrying a sword, and Alanna started to whimper at the sight. _They were going to get killed!_ In one smooth move, the attacker carrying the sword sliced the leg of Thom's mare. The shrieking neighing of pain pierced the air. Alanna tried to back away, but a hand suddenly grabbed her hair from behind, causing her to let out a shrill scream in terror, "No! Thom! Father!" she sobbed, calling for salvation, but a hand moved to cover her mouth. They weren't even given time to defend themselves!

_MAMA!_

She saw, through rather blurry eyes, the redness of Arundel's uniform as it was exposed to their attackers. A second later she was falling backwards, a sharp pain hitting her head before she was succumbing, _without a fight,_ to the strong, comforting lure of nothingness.


	10. Chapter 10

_As I've said before – there has now been a shift in the plot. There are events that have occurred between the end of the last chapter and the beginning of this one that I've purposely left out. It will cause a huge blank in the storyline, but rest assured, this blank will get filled and explained in later chapters. I apologise in advance for the confusion that's bound to happen somewhere (sooner or later)._

Disclaimer – Song of the Lioness belongs respectively to Tamora Pierce

**CHAPTER TEN**

The girl clutched the rough tartan blanket around her shoulders tighter; afraid that it would slip from its embrace around her shoulders and expose her. It was itchy to her skin, and not quite comfortable, but she didn't dare speak in case _he_ turned his attention towards her. Swallowing the sigh she felt building in her throat, she closed her eyes and leaned her head very gently against the window. She could feel the old woman staring at her, from where the woman sat beside her in the small, worn and rickety carriage.

There was a pity in the woman's eyes, but also something that looked close to unhappiness and concern. _He_ had told her earlier that the woman's name was Aula. Aula looked so warm and pleasant, and all the girl wanted was for Aula to assure her that everything was going to be alright. But she knew that would never happen, since she didn't even know Aula. What right did she have to ask Aula—clearly a woman of high standing—to comfort a strange, pitiful girl with no current memory of what had happened to her?

She could hear the young voice of the little girl, Danae, in front. Danae was speaking in hushed tones to _him_, clearly unafraid. Once in a while, Danae would poke her head around to look at her with wide eyes, and the girl could sense that Danae was barely resisting the urge to say something to her. She knew she looked terrible; it didn't take a genius to figure out that her appearance would inspire such interest in a youngster. Danae was every bit the curious child, and reminded her of a kitten; so innocent, yet altogether inquisitive.

_He_ didn't even move a muscle in her direction. She supposed that she was to be sad at this fact; instead she found that it comforted her. In truth, she wouldn't be able to handle looking at the face of her saviour again, a saviour with eyes much too intense for her to remain composed. Her confusion would definitely bring tears; and for some unknown reason, she did not want him to see such weakness.

How could a complete stranger bring her to a state of rioted mess?

She prevented any thoughts that pertained to addressing such a question in her mind. She had sat for the past few hours, alone with her thoughts ever since she first awoke and was put in the carriage. _He_ hadn't spoken a word to her again after he had told her that they needed to move for their safety. Too frightened to even think about anything, let alone her safety with these people, she just nodded.

Oddly enough, she didn't even know his name. Perhaps due to their circumstances and their quick haste to leave, he forgot to tell her his name. And even worse, she forgot to ask for hers. She was missing the vital part to her identity, and he sat not four feet away, his back to her, with the key to that knowledge. But she was far too scared to ask him. Wasn't she a burden enough, already? If only she would regain her memories! It would make everything so easy. She could remember trivial things about the world, but couldn't even recall anything about her own life.

All she knew was what he had told her. That he knew her, and that they were trying to find a suitable place to stay because the country was now in civil war. Carefully piecing those small facts together, she must have been fleeing too, but in the process had been hurt to a degree that she lost her memories. The throbbing at the back of her head, and the blood stained on her clothes, were testament enough. Aula had remarked that she had hit her head severely, and they needed to find a place to attend to her wounds properly. Right now, a piece of someone's clothing was wrapped tightly around her head to temporarily address her wound, but she could also feel the sting of many cuts and bruises on her body.

A sudden violent rocking of the carriage jostled them around, and her head made contact with something solid. She cried out in pain, unable to stop the small tears from escaping and hold in her silence. Soft arms suddenly embraced her, and she opened her eyes to find herself propped against Aula. Sniffing, she saw that both Danae and _he_ were looking at her with worry. Something inside her froze at the attention, and she shied away, turning her face into Aula's bosom and bursting into tears.

Aula's arms tightened around her, murmuring in her ear like a mother would do. She heard Danae asking what was wrong, but _his_ voice hushed the little girl. She didn't care though, knowing she was embarrassing herself by weeping so.

"It's alright, dear." Aula whispered, granting her the words she wanted to hear. It didn't feel as reassuring as she wanted. But Aula kept whispering over and over by instinct. "Everything will be alright. You just need to rest."

Her tears stopped at those words; not because of assurance but because of defiance. "No, I want—" but she stopped, a hitch stuck in her throat. Aula stilled as well, and a silence filled the carriage as they heard her speak for the first time in hours. She took the silence as a sign to keep talking. Aula let her ease out of the comforting embrace. She took a few seconds to wipe away her tears and cleared her throat. Drawing on an innate source of strength, she lifted her gaze to address _him_.

"I want t—to know my name."


	11. Chapter 11

Disclaimer – Song of the Lioness belongs respectively to Tamora Pierce

**CHAPTER ELEVEN**

**From the journal of Jonathan of Conté:**

_February 12th _

_It's been three days since we arrived in this small town of Malak. We are still well inside Tortall's borders, but of great distance from Corus and the west. I suspect that we are actually much closer to Fief Goldenlake; I remember this route from when I visited with my father two years back. It's quiet here, and the local people do not bother us._

_I bought this journal book only yesterday. The girl who was selling it was very kind. She also provided us with bandage cloth and healing swabs for Alanna, as well as washing our clothing for us. Aula spent most of the first night cleaning and dressing up Alanna's wounds, as well as forcing the girl to sleep and rest._

_This is the first time I've written in a journal. The idea didn't come to me until yesterday, when I realised I had no one and nothing in which to express my thoughts. Who knows if I will come out alive at the end? Perhaps these pages of parchment will survive, as a record of even a glimpse of my life. Immortality is not a gift bestowed upon us, and our existence is in danger at this very moment._

_In the meantime, I've had the opportunity to plan out what we'll be doing. All three of them—Danae, Aula and Alanna—are under my care. And the road ahead of us remains unclear. I can only pray and hope that we'll get out Tortall alive. How could we have not seen this coming? The murder of that man; it was intended. For by killing a leading figurehead of the Rebellion, a war on our hands was inevitable._

_Who murdered him? Was it an act by someone from the council? _

_Until I receive enough information about things, I have to get my sister, Aula and Alanna out of Tortall and away from the danger. Raiden is in good hands. I must remember to get into contact with him once we settle out of the border. In this same vein, I wonder what befell Thom of Trebond. Was he kidnapped? I refuse to think anything other than his survival. I need to find out where he is._

_Merciful Mother. May he not be with the same fate as his sister._

_It's painful. Painful to watch a young girl struggle to make sense of her bearings, after she has lost her memories. Uncle Baird once told me that losing one's memories couldn't be cured by the Gift. Would Alanna eventually remember? It seems impossible at this moment; especially since places and people of home, wouldn't be around to act as instigators to help her remember._

_But her safety must come first. I can only hope it won't be too late when we have the time to work on such a delicate problem. She's fragile right now, and she is slowly trusting Aula, learning to be comfortable around her. Will she learn to trust me, as well? Especially, when she discovers the lie I've told her?_

_She asked me for her name, those few afternoons ago._

_It was on the tip of my tongue. Ready to tell that vulnerable girl the name that just might break the wall separating herself from her memories. But it was not her name I gave her. It was not the name of a young lady who had spent a summer with our family, brightening our days and inspiring me to want to overcome that fear I held._

_I gave her the name of a frightened girl, who was fleeing her home country, unaware of her identity, or the people who would now be her only guidance. I gave her the name I prayed would protect her from those who could link her to the Conté family._

_I named her Alaine. A name to link her to herself, her memories, no matter how far apart they were. I want her to have something that is essentially part of herself, even if it isn't complete. It was a farce. But farces were what were going to keep us all alive and out of Tortall. She deserves this at least. And this is all I can do for her now._


	12. Chapter 12

Standard disclaimer inserted.

**CHAPTER TWELVE**

Alaine willed herself not to grin, trying not to give herself away. Danae was playfully nudging her knee, but looking straight ahead. The small girl's face was set determinedly in an odd mixture of smugness and innocence. Alaine was almost certain that if she was to even quirk a lip or move her arm slightly, Danae would burst into giggles, and their game would end. Alaine, secretly, held on to that contact with the little one, knowing it helped to keep her mind distracted from more immediate things.

And, if their game was to cease, they would fall silent, and Alaine wasn't sure how she'd feel in that awkwardness she always felt when in the presence of Danae's brother. After revealing her name, the absolute avoidance she had been doing had lessened. Mayhap it was Jon's voice that did the trick, but she had slowly but surely allowed herself to sit amongst his company, even if she chose not to speak with him.

She might be comfortable enough around him, but that didn't mean she let loose her tongue. In any case, Danae did enough chattering and giggling and exclaiming for all four of them. Aula, bless her soul, confined herself to a motherly role and was hence, often subject to Jon's light teasing. She fussed over them all, and pleaded with Alaine to "_keep eating more". _

At that very moment, the woman herself was laying in the back seat of the small carriage, sleeping quietly after losing a debate with the three youngsters in her care. Alaine was glad that Aula was finally resting, for the woman had lost plenty of sleep after tending to Alaine for days. Alaine herself sat on the front bench, with Danae squished contentedly, to Alaine's interest, between her and Jon. If there was something more about having her brother and Alaine to herself, Danae didn't mention it. Alaine ignored the obvious elbow jolts Danae kept sending Jon every time she thought Alaine wasn't looking.

It was around midday when they approached a flatter and smoother part of the road. The thick tangle of trees began to thin out, and the sun was high in the sky and beating down on them warmly. Jon commented that they were in the middle of autumn, and she of course only nodded in reply. They rode on for another quarter of an hour before the trees stopped and they crossed into open grass expanse. Far off there were magnificent hill ranges, and the sight made Alaine tremble.

Something was ticking in the back of her head, but she shook her head and it disappeared. She only noticed then that both Jon and Danae had fallen silent. Pulling on the reins skilfully, Jon brought the carriage to a halt to the side of the road. Turning to Jon, she found to her shock that a blue mist crackled under his palms and enveloped him whole as he closed his eyes. Murmuring very quietly under his breath, the blue haze faded and Jon snapped open his eyes to find her staring at him.

Looking apologetic, he scratched the back of his head. "It's real what you just saw. That is what you call the Gift."

"The Gift?" she whispered, as if saying it out loud would make fire or mists appear in her own hands the same way.

"It's like magic, Ala—Alaine!" Danae explained.

_Magic? _Alaine wondered. And Jon's eyes were a clear, violent blue…just like his Gift.

"Although there isn't anyone around, I still want us to be secure, even if we're just stopping to eat and stretch our legs. I made invisible everything physically connected to this carriage right then."

Her eyes widened as she held up her hand to inspect it, disbelieving as she didn't find any difference. She conveyed that disbelief to the siblings beside her, and they both burst into laughter at her expression. This prompted Aula to groan and then move behind them. They all turned to watch, but instead of waking up, Aula only opened her eyes, looked at them unblinkingly then sighed and turned over, her back to them as she fell back to sleep. The woman's soft snoring filtered into the air, and this time Alaine didn't hesitate in joining Danae and Jon in laughter.


	13. Chapter 13

Standard disclaimer inserted.

**CHAPTER THIRTEEN**

"Please don't forget about me." The six-year-old's voice was small and strong at the same time.

Alaine held a stoic expression as she silently listened to Danae give her tearful farewell to her older brother. Jon just held Danae's face in his hands and told her to be strong, that Jon would be back for her in a couple of months, and then after that they would be able to be reunited with their family.

"Alaine." Aula whispered gently, and Alaine turned to accept the embrace of the older woman who had done so much for her.

"Take care, Aula. I just want to say thank you, truly, from the bottom of my heart. I wish there was something I could do for you to repay that kindness."

Aula took compassion at Alaine's helpless words. "I'm just so very glad you're well and alive. You need to listen to what Jon says, and you must never reveal anything other than your name and whatever else Jon chooses to inform people. That is the best way to stay inconspicuous until you reach the border."

Alaine nodded, carefully filing that information into her thoughts. She noticed the frown and guilt that crossed Aula's face as they watched Jon and Danae.

Alaine, took things into her own hands, and subconsciously patted the woman's shoulder. "Don't be guilty, Aula. As Jon said, it's enough that Danae is protected and I'm certain your relatives will love her as much as she needs to be."

"Thank you." Aula's eyes watered as she held Alaine's gaze. "Will you do something for me, Alaine?"

"Anything."

"Take care of Jon. And when the time comes, learn to love him. Because as much as he is strong and noble, he needs your trust and your love. Whether you love him as a brother or as a friend or as a lover…be his pillar. It's the two of you against the world now. Jon is destined for greatness, Alaine. You must be the one to keep him on that path."

It was one simple request, yet the whole notion overwhelmed Alaine. Knowing that the journey ahead was unchartered and long, she vowed she would try and learn to trust Jon until she had no strength in her left to do that. She needed to repay Aula, and most of all—she needed to repay that young man who gave up plenty, to take a pathetic girl under his wing. Would it be enough?

Only the future would tell.

She gave Aula one last hug and thank you, before Danae's small arms clung to her waist. "Alaine, I'm going to miss you."

Alaine smiled down fondly at the girl before smoothing down the raven hair so dark compared to hers. "And I'm going to miss you, Danae. Promise me that the next time we meet there will only be big smiles and no tears."

"I promise. I'll be a good girl for Aula. But you have to be good for Jon. He's going to take good care of you." Danae nodded sagely. "He told me so!"

Alaine knew she would have been more sentimental if she still remembered this young spitfire and Aula from before her head injury. But only sadness resided in her chest, and a genuine hope that the Gods would be merciful to these two people that Jon and herself were parting with.

In an act that surprised even Aula and Jon, Danae kissed Alaine's cheek gently in a familial gesture. "I'll pray to the Goddess every night that you remember everything again!"

"And I'll pray to the Goddess every night that your family will be together again as soon as it can happen."

The four of them stood in front of the carriage door. Jon smiled, as he always seemed to do and turning to Aula, he bowed, honouring her. Alaine watched in amazement as Aula's tears rolled down her cheeks.

"Knowing that this makes it easier for the two of you to travel on is my only solace. I swear an oath that till the day I die, I will protect and love Danae. Allow me to live with the guilt that I am not able to provide a haven for the two of you. Only the end of this war and our victory will ease that guilt. Until the days get better, and you fulfil your promise to bring us all together again…may the Gods be with you. Take care on the roads, and don't forget what I told you."

Those words hung heavy in the air as Alaine and Jon left the small village and made their way back to the main highway. As the road began to get thinner and dustier, and the sun sunk low in the horizon, Alaine allowed herself to move closer to Jon, and lay her head trustingly on his shoulder. Come morning, they would have to discuss what they were going to do, but until then, knowing that they were not alone was enough to get them through the long night ahead.


	14. Chapter 14

Standard disclaimer inserted.

**CHAPTER FOURTEEN**

Jon was pacing up and down the small corridor. It was the first time that Alaine had ever seen Jon's ever immaculate and calm control ruffled. He was tapping his forefinger against his chin, as they waited.

It had been three days since they had crossed the border separating Tortall from its neighbouring nation of Galla, and four more since they had parted with Aula and Danae. Jon had chosen this village at random. Last night, Jon had used some of his money to pay for two rooms at the Triksies Tavern, where they had spent the night comfortable in a bed and supplied with fresh hot food.

It was a slight improvement from eating bread and cheese and dried fruit, and also from sleeping in the small carriage with Jon's gift as the only source of protection and warmth. Currently, they were in the local public house, waiting for the owner, Coram, to return with news of any places or homes they may rent.

Slight grumbling and the pad of heavy boot falls on the stairs announced the arrival of the man in question. Coram was a tall man with light hair and the build of a soldier. Alaine guessed he was approaching middle age.

"Aye Johnny! Sorry lad, but all of our houses and lodgings are full an' booked." Coram scratched the back of his head, apologetically smiling at the two youths before him. Alaine knew that Coram was resisting the urge to stare at Jon's autocratic face, and question why such a person of rich garb would be looking for a place there.

No matter what he wore, Jon still towered over most people. Coram was nearly the same height though.

Jon clicked his fingers. "Absolutely nothing, sir? Not even a room, I'm sure we'd fix the sleeping arrangements, but we are desperate."

"Nothin' lad. Plus one room for a lad and lass not married would raise questions. I'm sure you'd like to keep the fair lass' reputation intact, not 'at I'm sayin' ye would take advantage of her or anythin'."

Alaine tried to keep the disappointment from her face. To be honest, she was tired of sleeping in the carriage. Her back hurt from the travelling they had been doing for nearly four weeks now. But guilt kept eating away at her whenever those ungrateful thoughts rose to mind. She was lucky not to be on the street and without a home!

Something must have happened that she missed, because when she raised her gaze Coram was staring at her. He pursed his lips then turned to Jon's brooding and forlorn self. "There is one place, though…" Coram looked a little unhesitant after he spoke, as if he was regretting what he just said.

Alaine could feel Jon's hope suddenly emanate. She was feeling the exact same thing! "Anything!" Jon exclaimed.

"It's an old vacant house about a half hour's ride away. It's in the more remote parts of the fief, but it's been unoccupied for a few years now. It's got two small rooms and a kitchen and sitting room. That's all though."

"It sounds excellent. Perfect, since there are only two of us." Jon was exceptionally good at negotiating with people.

"Now, now. I 'ave to warn ye. It's pretty shabby and needs alotta work. You up fer that? There will be some expenses to take care of, too."

"We'll have a look." Jon decided. Alaine, grateful and happy and positive, turned her bright smile to Coram and Jon.


	15. Chapter 15

_There will be a time jump in the next chapter. Just thought you'd might want to know. Sorry for the filler-type chapters lately, but it needs to be written to advance the plot. Thanks for all the great reviews! You rock!_

Standard disclaimer inserted.

**CHAPTER FIFTEEN**

It was small, dank and unattractive.

But after two or three days, Alaine could move around the house without hesitation or a crinkling of her brows. With some help from Coram, the owner of the Triksies Tavern, Jon had managed to empty the entire place of the debris and scattered scraps of withered furniture and possessions.

They had spent one whole day airing out the house. Luck was with them, for the windows were intact and still in good form. The two doors were another matter. The two men had to remove them after much pushing, and with Coram's kit and gear, Jon had fashioned strong doors from a pile of old wood in the following lot.

Under Jon's orders, Alaine spent the time scrubbing the walls and sweeping the floor. She was forced to redo her efforts when Jon had accidentally broken a hole into the roof. It was the first time she had really felt some irritation and a little bit of anger. Jon must have seen that irritation, and instead of a sombre apology, she was surprised and further angered when he laughed at her from his perch on the roof instead.

Her concern for his safety up there dissipated in seconds. She only crossed her arms and chose to ignore him. She had forgotten her awkwardness and reverent silence. She eventually forgave him an hour later, and they stopped for the day to share some lunch and toss around more ideas for what they needed to do with their abode. By that evening, the place was empty, and as tidy and clean as they could make it.

Over the next two weeks they had accumulated enough possessions to make the small house livable. The locals had been wary and almost rude during their first two or three days, but gradually they opened up to the two youngsters who evidently needed their help. Coram's presence helped a lot, and both Jon and Alaine realised that being on good and friendly terms with the leader townsmen was like a bright sign that reassured the others.

It was hard work, but they took everything one day at a time, and their forced co-existence melted away the awkward formality Alaine had felt since she had awoken and been informed that she suffered memory loss. Sometimes, when Jon told a joke or explained something to her, she would experience a small feeling of recognition. She hoped that those rare moments would eventually lead to the complete return of her former memories.

She didn't share this hope with her companion though; it was an act to prevent any future disappointment.

Some of the locals were kind enough to give them pieces for the house that weren't being used any longer. A wooden table with benches, two large settees made of cheap leather and cotton stuffing, a dresser and rack that Alaine and Jon would have to share for their (limited) clothes, and two cupboards – one for the kitchen, and another for miscellaneous items. Alaine would decide where everything would be placed in the house, and Jon complied by moving everything around. This simple process oddly warmed Alaine's belly for a reason she couldn't fathom.

Jerose Richoter was a woman who provided their meals. During the first week, she showed up on their doorstep every afternoon without fail. Her cantankerous nature baffled Alaine, and to Alaine's amusement, Mistress Richoter reduced Jon to odd silence. This wasn't an easy feat, and Alaine wasn't sure what to feel at the indication that her sapphire-eyed saviour wasn't as perfect as she had imagined.

Mistress Richoter became a frequent guest, often letting her temper fly if she found something wrong. She had no hesitation in scolding the two youths, and in her wake, Alaine learned how to prepare and cook simple meals, and Jon now remembered that his mud-stained boots were forbidden to be worn inside the house. The woman was the same age as Coram, and although she embodied the exact opposite of Aula's motherly and kind character, Mistress Richoter soon gained their respect and, sometimes, their fear.

Strangely and fortunately, she didn't ask for anything in return. All she required was for Jon to help around their small community in order to gain work. But most of all, she asked Alaine to help her with her needlework. It became apparent after a month, that Alaine had a knack for sewing. She was quick to understand the lessons that Mistress Richoter freely gave, and genuinely enjoyed the activity. The fancy curtains that were recently hung on the bare windows, and the mended rips and holes in Jon's shirts and breeches were all the result of Alaine's needlework.

Mistress Richoter's visits lessened since the pair began to show signs of independence. During the day, Jon could be found on the farms or the corn fields or even the blacksmith's or the carpenter's. Alaine would be with Mistress Richoter, sewing and making money as well as friends, as mothers and sisters would request her skills in dressmaking. If not, she would be out – washing clothes or buying ingredients for dinner.

The evenings were relaxed, and allowed Alaine and Jon to indulge in useless banter or philosophical conversation. She gained an ever deeper level of admiration for him, when she realised exactly how humble he was. He was constantly immersed and forced into hard labour, but he accepted it without complaint, and Alaine was almost sorry at the knowledge that workman's clothes robed him instead of rich garments, and that his hands were covered in callouses, and his body marred by random scars. One night, he came home covered in black soot and nasty scratches, but he laughed off Alaine's worry. He said it was part of the job; that it was his contribution to _their home, _and_ their life together. _

She went to bed later that evening with a goofy grin and a rapidly beating heart. Considering circumstance, unknowingly to either of them, it was the perfect gift to mark her fifteenth birthday.


	16. Chapter 16

Standard disclaimer inserted.

**CHAPTER SIXTEEN**

**17 months later**

As the minutes passed, baited breaths were trapped in silence. A general reverence fell as people moved languidly. Then, as if aware, the last slit of brilliant orange disappeared over the horizon and the world was blanketed in darkness.

Deep drum beats rose in the air, and upon reaching its crescendo, three large bonfires emblazoned the air simultaneously. The cheers and shouts were like lightning thunder; its force colossal, its energy fearsome. While the music started and people moved, she remained still, her eyes searching, until finally, it caught his waiting stare.

There was laziness in his stance, as if there was no earthly burden resting on his shoulders. There was only time and celebration. Suddenly remembering, she removed a garland necklace made of flowers from her neck and draped it over his tall shoulders.

His breath fanned her hair, and she unconsciously drew closer towards him. The corner of his mouth lifted slightly.

"Johnny! Laine! Come an join the dancin'. Ye ain't new no more. There's no excuse!" The order broke through their moment. Grinning, they joined the large circle around the floral adorned maypole rising from the ground.

After the first dance was complete, she tried to escape from the circle, only to be stopped by the knowing bystanders. Raechel, a young woman with a small babe on her hip, hollered out. "Where ye goin' lassy? Ye still got one more dance. Comon! One dance with Johnny! Dance for Spring and celebrate desire!"

At the last word, Alaine moaned and tried not to complain. The others around her started jeering. Hands pushed her back into the ring, that was, by now, much smaller. Sucking up her courage she stumbled over to Jon's laughing self. Her pout disappeared as soon as Jon touched her arms. A red hue blossomed on her cheeks as the exotic rhythm flowed around them. His close proximity warmed her far greater than the blazing bonfires.

Her face remained as red as a tomato long after their dance. It made sense for them to dance with each other, even though, they weren't _lovers_ or anything silly like that. Their neighbours laughed at her embarrassment, but also praised her. Although Jon did not show any signs of embarrassment, there was a slight pink tinge across his cheekbones for a short while.

As she fanned herself with her hands, Jon looked over at her in concern. "Are you alright?"

"I'm feeling fantastic!" Her voice came out unusually shrilly.

Whether he was aware of just how self-conscious she was, he didn't show it. Instead he suggested that they get something to eat. It was set out like a banquet of dairy cheese and custard, strawberries, corn, nuts and cherry pasty. To the centre of the table arrangement, were enormous piles of roasted beef and lamb. Jon explained that this came from the animal sacrifices made earlier in the day, as part of the fertility festival and the honouring of the Goddess and her consort.

"And you won't have to cook tonight."

Alaine smirked. "Thank the Goddess. It's about time I don't starve because of my own generosity."

Jon gaped. "I do_ not_ eat all the food."

"No. You just swallow most of it before I can even sit down at the table. _Hog._"

Jon stood straighter, towering over Alaine's small frame even more. "I resent that. I'm a growing lad who works har—"

Three strawberries were shoved into his mouth unceremoniously. "Of _course._ Now since you work so hard, you can hold this for us." She placed her two piled plates in his arms, easily rivalling his own. "You are used to it anyway."

His groan was audible despite his full mouth, and full arms. Alaine wasn't aware of the skip in her step as she led him to a place to sit.

When midnight approached, they made their way towards a more secluded part of the festivities to a large bronze pot. It held water blessed by priests in the city square during the morning rituals. Families would come and pray, or give thanks, and drop petals into the pot. A man and a woman dressed in long flowing robes stood watch over the pot, and stirred the pot with a gold staff each time petals, prayers, wishes and dreams were dropped into the water.

Alaine closed her eyes and sent two silent wishes to the heavens. Opening her eyes, she waited solemnly as Jon prayed. Come morning, his burdens would be back—and he needed…deserved…hope. She yearned with all her heart that all of Jon's prayers would be answered, because as they splashed each other with the sacred water, he was already granting one of hers.


	17. Chapter 17

Standard disclaimer inserted.

**CHAPTER SEVENTEEN**

Following the large success of Beltane, Jon was appointed a member of the local council. His simple ideas and calculations had allowed the celebrations to run efficiently and without any troubles.

He had finally won the trust and respect of the older men who dominated the council, and his hard work had earned him a role as a town leader. As the youngest, Jon had also attained the admiration and affection of many women, both young and old, and there were many times when the wives of the older council elders mothered the attractive youth from Tortall.

He had gone from shepherding flocks of sheep and cattle, then heading small groups of younger farmers, to finally holding a key position in an entire fief's communal economy. Though he was working harder than ever, Alaine was proud, and happy to see the content and confidence that Jon had gained over this experience.

He was a leader; not by birth, but by hard work and determination. It was moments like these that Alaine wondered who Jon really was. But she banished those thoughts; knowing that the people Jon and her had become were shaped not their pasts—both known and unknown—but by their lives here _now_ in Galla.

It was on a particularly windy day in November, a month after Beltane, when Alaine met Raoul of Goldenlake for the very first time.

She was making her way down the road that led to home, when she spied Jon and a man half a head taller waiting outside the house. Curious, and also a little worried that the produce she had just bought wouldn't be enough if the man stayed for dinner, she hurried her steps. As she approached, both men turned and bowed their heads in respect.

"Alaine. I'd like you to meet someone. This is Sir Raoul of Goldenlake, a knight from Tortall. Raoul, this is Alaine."

Alaine smiled as the stranger returned a mischievous but friendly grin. His openness somehow contradicted the imposing presence of his stature.

"Lady Alaine." Sir Raoul greeted.

"A pleasure to meet you Sir Raoul. Why don't you both come in?"

While Alaine set the table, and prepared the food, the men talked in low tones in the adjoining room. While she was aware that eavesdropping wasn't polite, a part of her was curious enough to do so otherwise.

"I'm quite surprised you made it this far up." Jon was saying.

"I've been absent for nearly two months now. Cythera and her mother are the only family I have left, and Goldenlake is no longer safe." Alaine wondered who Cythera was. Mayhap his wife? It made sense.

Jon made an agreeing noise. "I understand. But sometimes I can't help but wonder how I could be so cowardly as to run aw—"

"We all make mistakes. I often wondered why and how you abandoned your—well, never mind." Only silence met their guest's bitter words. Chair legs scraping, Raoul took a deep breath, "I apologise, my lord. I was out of line."

"No, no." Jon's voice was distinctively sad.

"At least you're starting to make plans. I'll help you in getting contact with Gareth. You can trust me."

When yet another long drawn silence ensued, Alaine realised that the men would have noticed the lack of sound in the kitchen. Guiltily, she scuffled back and started making a clamour with the dishes and forks. When Jon and Raoul came to sit at the table a few minutes later, she projected her smile for them and kept her questions to herself. Confused, and a little wary, the only comfort she had was the gracious compliments on her cooking.


	18. Chapter 18

_For those of you who have commented rightly about the pace of the story; it's going to be a pretty slow build up to the end. It's an even-paced story that revolves around AJ fleeing from Tortall, the gradual build up of their relationship, and eventually the ending. So while we've passed half-way, there are still a handful of chapters to go. Hang in there! Thanks for your patience. _

Standard disclaimer inserted.

**CHAPTER EIGHTEEN**

She was seated in a large carriage; one much cumbersome than the one Jon and her had rode in with Aula and Danae on their way to Galla a year and a half ago. Opposite her sat an austere looking man, who had dark hair and a stern expression. He was looking at the boy next to her in disapproval.

Glancing to her left, a young boy with a slim but childish face was glaring at the man. He spoke in low, but strong tones, exclaiming angrily about being forced to express his gratitude. Alaine understood nothing, but wasn't too concerned since she was so pre-occupied with the flaming red hair that curled around the boy's head.

Sensing her gaze, he suddenly turned to her and sighed deeply. "I thought you'd have said more, Al. But you've been quiet all morning." He was searching her face for an answer. Maybe support? Alaine wasn't too sure what the conversation was about.

The man snorted, "Perhaps she now understands that her place in society starts with her education at the convent. It'd be best if you follow her example, Thom, and realise that becoming a _sorcerer _is nothing but a juvenile notion." The man failed to mention that he had expected this stubborn resistance to have come from his daughter, and not from his quieter, and more subdued son.

Something inside Alaine snapped. "_Perhaps_ I'm merely thinking about the plans I have to escape from the convent, Father." Alaine was shocked at how small and young her voice sounded.

Her father's eyes flashed in warning, "You will do no such thing, young lady. I will make sure that any escape on your part will never happen."

Alaine could feel her lips smile maliciously. Thom was looking at her, apprehension but also familiar excitement glinting in his purple eyes as he watched the argument before him. Alaine wondered how she could hold such resentment for her father. Shouldn't she have loved him? "It won't be such a loss. I've always got other plans to fall back to."

Her father opened his mouth, only to shut it once again. Alaine felt smug, knowing she had ruffled her father's never-wavering feathers. Shaking his head, Thom turned to her and started shaking her shoulder insistently, "Make up, make up! _Make up, Alaine,_" he was saying, and Alaine looked back at him in confusion. _Make up? With their father?!_

"Wake up, Alaine." Jon's voice exclaimed out of nowhere, and she opened her eyes. Blinking furiously, she took in the loudness surrounding them and gathered her bearings. Remembering that she was riding on the beautiful roan horse with Jon's chest pressed against her back, she sighed in frustration. _It was just a dream._

She must have fallen asleep again. This was the fourth time it happened, for she always fell asleep when they rode into the neighbouring fief's market place. Yawning, she scrubbed at her eyes and ignored Jon's chuckles.

"You need to grow more spirit," he drawled, "or else you'd have fallen off and gotten trampled and _then_ deserted on the side of an unknown road if I hadn't been there."

Huffing, she straightened in her seat and sent him a catty look. "I have more spirit than you think! How was my spirit suppose to know not to drift off at the snail's pace you were riding? I'm surprised Tempest didn't just lie down on the side of an unknown road and join me in my slumber!"

Jon only lifted his eyebrow in mock amusement. Alaine went along with their banter, but she was careful not to show any signs of her distress about her dream. It was the second dream she'd had, upon where she had a father and a brother. Could they be memories? If so, what had happened to her family?

She nurtured that hope in her chest, but never allowed it to consume her. If the dreams, or more so memories, continued with the same consistency, then she would bring it up with Jon and see if her memories truly were returning!

Then she would worry about the consequences. She would need to find out about her parents and her siblings—if she had more—and if she was _betrothed_ to someone. Judging from the talk around her, it seemed common that girls her age were now married. It was perfectly normal on her part to be curious about such matters.

Surely Jon would have told her these things if he knew, right?

Trusting him wholeheartedly, just like Aula had requested, she smiled genuinely and caught up with him. The local city fair suddenly looked so welcoming. Mixing in with the large crowds that streamed throughout the bustling and colourful town square, she was pleasantly surprised when Jon took hold of her hand and tugged her close to his side.

Blushing, she tried not to think that the gesture was beyond his protectiveness and practicality to not lose her in the crowd. When she shyly curled her free arm to embrace his, she laughed softly, knowing that both her Beltane wishes were suddenly coming true.

Looking down at her, Jon whispered into her ear, "I've a story to tell you. One about a Prince, a beautiful young Lady, and a golden summer."

Heart suddenly pounding, she couldn't tear her gaze from the rush of emotions that passed through his eyes. Pride. Fondness. Sadness. Regret. Guilt. And finally, excitement. "Oh? Do share." She almost didn't recognise the huskiness in her voice.

"Later," he teased, "after we buy everything we need first."


	19. Chapter 19

_Please NOTE that I had to change Midwinter to June instead of December, because I'm following the seasonal patterns here in the southern hemisphere._

Standard disclaimer inserted.

**CHAPTER NINETEEN**

**From the journal of Jonathan of Conté:**

_June 23rd _

_Departing from the usual plans and notes I use this journal for, I'll use the opportunity to write about Midwinter this year._

_Last Midwinter was spent at Mistress Richoter's humble home with the Richoter family. It was a loud, boisterous affair, and Alaine had sparkled under all the attention. It was then that the lively nature of Alanna had come to the surface again, and the guilt eased for me somewhat for a while. But this year was different._

_With the Richoter's away visiting extended relatives on the other side of the country, Midwinter had been a quiet, but surprisingly enjoyable celebration. Alanna and I joined Coram at the Triksies Tavern for breakfast and lunch. Alanna, or more so Alaine, had helped Coram and the other bar workers to serve meals to the festivity-goers that ate early at the Tavern. _

_After lunch we moved on to the house of Patrice of Elden, and her daughter Cythera. Raoul, Patrice's nephew, had moved them to Galla in the hopes of finding a secure place for them to live after Elden was attacked nearly half a year ago. Mithros be willing, I sincerely prayed that Raoul was safe this Midwinter. If our plans went accordingly, I would be moving Alanna and myself back to Tortall before the end of the year. With Raoul's help in getting contact with Cousin Gary, it also made tracking Raiden easier._

_Knowing that my younger brother was alive and safe—it made a whole difference on the burdens and guilt. According to Gary, Raiden had joined the anti-Rebellion corps. There was no news on our parents, nor on Thom of Trebond. However, I managed to make contact with Aula and Danae. _

_Sending messenger was not secure, so I finally got through to them through fire. It took a lot of the Gift, but it was worth it to see my sister somehow. Danae looked older, and the childlike innocence I remembered had been replaced by a more sombre but nonetheless hopeful girl of 8 years._

_She had spent a long time chatting and giggling with Alanna, and I felt like an evil brother having to bring their conversation to a close after my head started aching. It was starting to get dark when we reached our own home, but at least we got to enjoy the wonderful turkey stew and fruit pudding that Lady Patrice forced us to bring home. _

_And this was when and where Midwinter took a greater significance._

_Giving Alanna her present was enough to complete my Midwinter celebrations. So when I presented her with the small, shiny black kitten with uncanny eyes as violet as his new mistress', it stunned me when Alanna thrust the kitten back at me and screamed. Thinking she was allergic, scared or just displeased at the gift… it was a small kick to my ego, and to my heart._

_It was only a few minutes later that I discovered that the kit, later dubbed "Faithful", could speak to my red-headed lady. By the end of the night, the kitten was cosseted warmly and snugly under the blankets beside Alanna. Sometimes, she amazes me._

_Thinking that our evening ended there, I was sorely mistaken. For Alanna herself slipped into my room in the late hours of the night, when midnight was only an hour or two away. Thinking that she had another one of those dreams she mentions but never describes, I sat up only to find her staring in awe at my bare chest. Somewhat embarrassed, especially having been celibate since the day that the war in Tortall started, her gift came most unexpectedly._

_Her small hands, calloused slightly by the housework she endured, reached up on my shoulders to prop her up as she gave up—what I learned a few moments later was—her first kiss. Despite having kissed several women since I turned 14, Alanna's innocent kiss had sent a heat into my veins that I hadn't felt in a long time._

_As she blushed in the aftermath, I caressed her cheek, an odd but recognisable beat racing in my chest. Trying to be encouraging, she had stammered that she trusted me more than anyone in her life, and that one day, she wanted to be everything that made up mine. It struck me then, that while I had no idea when her birthday was, she must have already passed her sixteenth year._

_That thought sent everything in my body spinning. And that night…was the first night that I've ever been jealous of a black kitten with purple eyes._


	20. Chapter 20

Standard disclaimer inserted.

**CHAPTER TWENTY**

By now, Alaine knew that she was experiencing another memory through her dreams.

She was standing in a paddock of some kind, but with flat lush green grass that stretched on forever. She was dressed in loose dark breeches, and a pale yellow shirt that covered her from neck to wrists. Her usually bright red hair was a dark titian colour, glinting almost dark amber in the sunlight.

Her face felt rounder and her chest flatter. These small features only emphasised her youth, but before she could examine herself more, Danae's excited laughter caught her attention. The young girl was swinging between two youths—the red head she recognised as the brother in her dreams, Thom—and the other was a raven haired boy of the same age with piercing silver eyes.

They both had annoyed looks on their faces, as if they would rather be elsewhere than minding the bubbling child ready to burst with excitement. Behind them, Jon—garbed in flowing white robes that covered him entirely—told Danae to be quiet, and the girl immediately did. Her grin remained petulantly.

Finding a spot a couple metres down, Danae lay on the grass on her stomach, watching with interest as Thom and the other boy sparred with their swords. The two of them were taunting each other, but laughing as well. Alaine herself stood to the right, with Jon instructing her on how to hold the silver sword correctly in her hand. As she adjusted it comfortably, she let her shoulders relax and blocked Jon's light attack instinctively.

Spurred on and feeling mischievous at the thought that Lady Loucelle, a teacher from the convent, would have a heart attack if she saw Alaine wielding a sword—she let herself feel the rhythm of the sparring. Jon's grin made her feel proud, and she was aware of Danae's cheering from the sidelines.

A few seconds later, when she felt the tug of wakefulness calling her from her dreamful memories, she wondered who Alanna was and why Thom and his friend were calling her that.

That afternoon she approached Jon and asked the question that had been weighing on her mind for months, "What happened that day that you found me, Jon?"

His blue eyes were suddenly guarded, and Alaine wondered why he had never told her earlier. "A lot of things, Laine."

"Tell me, _please. _I need to know."

He looked at her thoughtfully for a few agonising seconds, before he started explaining. "I don't know how things happened for you. I can only assume that your father must have sent you and your brother to head to one of the main shelters when you were attacked and fell. That's the only logical explanation as to how you gained a head injury and forgot your memories."

Nodding, she urged him to give her anything else. "Ho—how did you find me?"

"I was taking Danae and Aula to the same shelters. We were coming from the other direction, but I heard the sounds that could only belong in a fight. I'm th—I'm trained as a knight, Alaine," saying this, he looked away, but not before Alaine caught the self-disgust, shame and guilt in his eyes, "So I came to see what was happening. By the time I got there, you were lying there alone, with Captain Arundel dead and your brother nowhere to be found. I was too late."

Alaine swallowed, wishing she could remember.

Darkness suddenly entered his expression, "I thought you were dead. But when I realised that you were only injured and unconscious I knew I had to get you out of the country. You, my sister and Aula. I had originally planned to get you all past the border, and then return by myself to handle everything else, but things changed."

"What do you mean?"

"I got scared again. I don't know if you remember, but power always held a fear for me."

Jaw dropping, Alaine couldn't understand. "But why?! You're a leader now. Surely…"

But Jon shook his head in dispute, "No. It's different for who I am. My status and my world are all about power."

Realising that he was finally treading on a subject that she was wary about, she didn't realise that she herself had suddenly become much closed off. "And who were you, Jon? You said you were trained as a knight."

Looking at her, she saw the desperate pleading in his eyes to trust him. "I was…no, I am the son of a very important nobleman. Our family is one of the most respected in Tortall."

Knowing how close it sounded to her guesses, it was odd for her to feel so shocked, "Jon… a knight's duty is very important. I don't know why I know that, but I feel it. I have no right to judge you, but…" Then suddenly, a dreadful thought entered her mind, "Am I keeping you from going back to Tortall to fight for what's right in our country?"

"No! The only person keeping me from doing my duty is myself." Suddenly, he was very close, and Alaine ached to ease the tortured agony clearly dominating inside this young man who had done so much for her.

How could he keep this weight on his shoulders for so long? How could _she_ have not noticed?

Before she could comfort him, a loud banging on their front door surprised them both. Their conversation interrupted, they looked at each other before Jon moved to the door. Thinking it might be either Mistress Richoter or one of her daughters, Alaine was astounded to see three tired people that she had only thought existed in her dreams.

"Raiden?!" Jon choked, and then he embraced the tall figure in front of a familiar red-headed twin and an older woman named Maude.


	21. Chapter 21

_This story is winding down towards the end :) Only a few chapters left!_

Standard disclaimer inserted.

**CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE**

"We just turned seventeen in May." Thom had informed her.

Alaine couldn't tear herself away from her brother. Even not remembering everything about him, she was drawn to him the way that most twins were close to each other. Although she didn't believe in any of those notions about soul mates and such stuff, she did genuinely feel that her familial connection to Thom allowed her interaction with him now to feel so right.

Culminating with her desire to gain anything about her lost past, she was ecstatic to know that her brother, as well as Jon's brother Raiden, and Maude were alive and healthy. Trying to compare these people with the rare glimpses she had of them in her dreams, Thom and Raiden were much, much taller and had grown into young men. Raiden was as tall as Jon, practically a mirror image of his brother save for his brilliant silver eyes, and jovial disposition.

Thom, though shorter, was a head taller than her small frame. He looked older, tired, with scars all over him that hadn't been present in her few memories of him. He and Raiden moved like great big cats, slinky and ready for any threat. And perhaps that was good for them. The war had molded them into warriors.

Maude, on the other hand, remained a mystery. Alaine didn't know much about this woman, only that she had taken care of Thom and her as they grew up. In their few days stay with Jon and Alaine, Maude kept to herself and Alaine felt nervous around her. Maude's eyes never missed a thing.

On a different note, things between her and Jon had progressed. Their little home was not big enough, so Alaine was forced to sleep beside Jon in his room. Not that she minded, but Thom had protested even though his efforts were in vain. She was both happy that her brother cared so much, but also annoyed, because she wanted Jon all to herself.

Raiden only shrugged, and said "Why not? They've been living together for two years, and I'm sure Ala—Alaine won't let Jon do anything to her, anyway." His comment was met by laughs and snorts and blushes (on Alaine and Jon's side anyway).

Maude remained silent, neither criticizing nor approving. She only told everyone to behave.

On the first night, Jon had kept to his respectful side on the small bed. While Maude slept quietly in Alaine's room, and Thom and Raiden snored like an orchestra in the living room, Alaine twisted and turned. She woke up the next morning cranky.

On the second night, she had quietly forced Jon to allow her to give him a massage after a long working day. When she was secure that their guests' were asleep, she cut her and Jon's quiet conversations to a close when she boldly kissed him. It took him a few minutes to submit to her attentions, and she went to sleep that night with a big grin and tender, bruised lips.

The following night, Alaine was only too happy to let Jon run his lips down her throat. She learned where all his tender and tickle spots were. Jon was especially sensitive behind his ears, and below his adam's apple. She found, to her pleasure, that she enjoyed Jon's calloused hands running up and down her arms, as well as along her spine.

It was on the morning of the fourth day since their guests' arrival that Alaine found herself eavesdropping once again. This time, Jon and their brothers didn't bother keeping quiet, since Alaine was suppose to still be out on her daily needlework projects with Mistress Richoter. But Alaine had asked for the next few days reprieve, and Mistress Richoter had been kind. That's how Alaine came to be standing in the front door.

"How long will you keep this up, Jon? Alanna deserves to know the truth." Raiden was speaking in frustration.

Jon replied in equal tone, "You think I don't know that? It's been awful keeping the truth like this, but I had to do it. I couldn't think of anything else to do to keep all of us safe. When I realised all the other options I could have taken, it was too late."

"You have to tell her soon."

Tell her what, soon? _Am I… Alanna? _A sudden fear gripped her chest, and she forced her mouth shut so not as to give her presence away.

"I will," Jon growled, "most of the plans we've discussed are nearly ready. We've got less than a month before we head back. Gary and Raoul have been working hard to make things easy for me. I know the King's Own won't be so welcoming."

There was a shared minute of silence before Thom finally spoke up. "I think you did the right thing for my sister. When I think of the circumstances, this was probably the best for her." Alaine heard the hesitance in his voice, "I'm really grateful that you chose to protect her to this extent. It means a lot, Jon. Especially since you're… well you know."

Was Jon keeping secrets from her? Was he lying? _Please don't be true, _she prayed, _not now. Not when things are so good between us. _But the evidence was right in front of her… Jon said she was one person, but everyone else was saying she was another. Who was she, and who was better? Alanna…a stranger, or Alaine…a lie?


	22. Chapter 22

Standard disclaimer inserted.

**CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO**

Jon slapped Thom's shoulders. Then, "It's no problem. She's special…"

Raiden coughed, "I see how it is. _Special_, eh Jon?"

"Stop it."

The two younger boys laughed at Jon.

"I have to admit," Thom said, "that I was pretty angry while we were coming here when Raiden told us that we had to abide by the charade. You wouldn't believe all the thoughts I had about what you and my sister were up to. Or what lies you were feeding all of us. _Alaine_ is as far as from my sister as ever! Dress-making, cooking… just like a man's pretty little wife," her twin mocked, "I never thought!"

Jon chuckled, "She's still Alanna. Though the accident was a terrible experience. Sometimes I just want her to regain her memories, so she'll know who we all are. But most of the time, I've come to appreciate what we've built here."

Thom sighed, "Just promise to tell her who she is soon or—"

"Alaine?" A hand suddenly touched her shoulder, and Alaine almost forgot that she was only listening in.

Whirling around in fright, Alaine came face to face with Maude. "Yes?" She whispered.

Maude's lips were set in a grim line. "We need to talk."

Later that evening, Alaine knew that Jon had noticed the change in her demeanour. Still swamped by the feelings of anger, disbelief, sadness and betrayal that had overtaken everything, she continued to ignore him, and only smiled and chatted when she needed to.

As their guests were saying goodbye, she let her tension ease as she said her goodbyes with her brother. Thom promised that they'd be seeing each other soon, before the end of the year. He told her to keep praying, and to work hard to keep Jon happy because the two of them owed so much to Jon.

Feeling guilty and slightly deceitful—knowing that she had no intentions of making Jon happy in the near future—she promised that she would do all those things only if he kept himself safe. He laughed it off, and was a little awkward when she embraced him tightly. She kept a strict control over her tears, a part of her not allowing herself to show such a sign of weakness.

When Raiden asked where his hug was, she gladly gave it to him. She allowed herself to soak in the feel of his arms, which were like Jon's, but also so different. This would be the closest she'd come to being in Jon's arms in the next few days. When she told Raiden that he was the most handsome boy she'd ever met, everyone laughed. When she purposely remarked that he might as well be a Prince, the laughter turned into nervous tittering.

To Maude, she thanked the older woman warmly. Maude's eyes were crinkled with worry. "Don't be too harsh on him, Alanna," she whispered, "He's taken good care of you, and he's done it for reasons that were credible at the time. Learn to forgive him in time. You both need each other."

Alaine chose not to say anything. She only offered a contrite smile, grateful that Maude had finally told her the truth.

As they watched their guests depart, Jon slid an arm around her shoulders. Angry that he dare do that, she shook his arm away and hissed, "Don't touch me!"

Confusion froze him in place. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing. I just don't know what to do."

"Tell me," he asked, concerned, "so I can help you."

The guilt went both ways, "I don't want to owe you anything, anymore!"

"You don't owe me _anything._" There was such conviction in his voice that she wanted so badly to believe him. But the lies were too much, and she didn't know if she could ever trust him again. After everything Maude told her… Alaine didn't want to be near someone who deceived her about whom she really was; who _he_ really was.

"Stop lying! I'm not stupid. Just because I don't remember anything, it doesn't make me dumb." There was an anger inside her that scared her in its intensity. "Even I know not to owe too much, especially not to the Crown Prince of Tortall!"

She didn't give Jon anytime to recover from his shock.

Her next, controlled words pierced him straight in the chest, "Stay _away_ from me, Your Highness."


	23. Chapter 23

Standard disclaimer inserted.

**CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE**

Her anger didn't dissipate for three days. In that time, she ignored Jon, until finally, five days later, he gave up on trying to talk to her. While their daily routine fell back into place, Alaine learned that while she felt that she was having a reasonable reaction to the lies fed to her, being without Jon's attention was horrible.

She wouldn't have minded if he chose to fight her or argue with her, but he had to be Jon, and respected her wishes. He stayed away, giving her space, and treating her like a stranger.

Everyone in town knew something was wrong. But most were smart enough not to mention anything, or to act any differently. Only Coram and Mistress Richoter knew the real turbulence, but neither were told of Jon's real identity. Even Alaine was compassionate enough not to reveal that and risk everything Jon had worked the past two years for.

What really set Alaine's blood to boil was the fact that many of the young and single women were taking advantage of this small dispute between Jon and Alaine. She knew that Jon was doing nothing to encourage any of their affections; but she couldn't help but blame him for being so attractive and charming.

The evenings were a different matter. Jon stopped coming home early to eat dinner with her. He stayed out longer, often having his supper at Mistress Richoter's, and then coming home when Alaine was already asleep. It was during these nights that Alaine cried herself to sleep with only Faithful as a companion; hating Jon, missing him, and also agonising over what she was suppose to do to make everything alright.

On a morning three weeks later, she willed herself to move forward, and hope that one day she and Jon would be good again. Even if they only remained friends; it would be more than she was expecting. She was finally ready to forgive him, but clearly, the tables were turned, and he was punishing her for not letting him explain and for not forgiving him earlier.

She needn't be miserable completely. She needed to figure out who she really was, and who she wanted to be. She hadn't had any dreams or memories for weeks.

As she walked down a small alley in the main city square; two men in red and grey uniforms bumped into her. She started apologising, but they took one look at her and started yelling, "Ye better look wer yer wolkin'! Damn useless chit!"

Her recent temper flared up, even though slivers of fear started crawling up her back. "Excuse me! Watch your manners, sirs."

The bigger one sneered, wiping sweat on his grey sleeve. At least his speech was much better. "Well if it ain't a feisty one. You should know better than to challenge us. You better move, girl, before you delay our search."

"You have no right." Her heart was pounding in her ears, "If you asked nicel—"

"That's it!" The smaller one said, and with one aggressive swipe, he grabbed her neck and pushed her to the floor. "Ye need ta learn'a'lessin, bitch!"

"That's enough!" Jon's voice cut in, filled with a fury that Alaine had never seen before. "Don't you raise your hand, nor speak with such disrespect to a woman ever again."

Before the other two men could get a word in, Jon punched and beat the two into unconsciousness. Alaine didn't notice the details, for she was too busy clutching her head and worrying over Jon. As the other villagers swarmed to them in concern, she only relaxed when she felt Jon's familiar arms scoop her up. With the pain on her head increasing, she was reminded of that day when she met Jon and Aula and Danae for the first time after the accident that wiped out her memory. Memories she knew she would never fully regain. She could hear Coram speaking from in front of them.

"Ye'll be alright, lass. We'll fix everythin' up and make sure yer good."

"Thanks, Coram. I love you, you know? You're part of my family." She didn't need to look to know that his face was flush red in embarrassment, as he walked on ahead of them to prepare lunch and the things needed to dress her wounds.

"I'm so sorry, Al. So sorry for lying to you, and for not being there to protect you!" Jon was whispering into her neck, and she knew then… that this was where she was safest.

She raised her better arm and stroked his cheek. "It's alright, _Jonathan. _I forgave you a while ago. And today's events? That isn't your fault."

"It is."

"No, it's not."

His face was fierce, and determined. "They're from Rebellion Unit 16, Alaine. They're from Tortall, and they're looking for me."

"What? Then that means…"

"We have to go. We have to get out of here. It's sooner than was planned, but we have to go back. _I _have to go back. My family needs me, my _country_ needs me."

Emotion choked her at that very moment. But she found herself nodding, "I understand."

Suddenly he was kissing her, and she forgot everything, even the pain. "But I need you. Thom needs you. The country needs you."

"What?"

"I need a wife… and there's no one that can fill that spot except you. Only you. Don't you know that I love you?"

Her eyes suddenly filled, and she buried her face in his neck. "I know. And I love you! So much. But a princess—_me_?" She laughed then, shocked, hopeful, doubtful…but entirely ecstatic.


	24. Coda

Standard disclaimer inserted.

**CODA**

Duke Gareth of Naxen  
Commander of His Majesty's Forces

There is a general mass meeting tonight in the Eastern Underground Headquarters. I hope the news that will be revealed then will come as a relief for you, and the thousands of men fighting to protect the Crown, and the Country. It is my honour to inform you that some of the Bazhir tribes have finally agreed, after two and a half years, to come and survey our forces and intentions at this meeting tonight. If things go successfully, then a turning point may be in our favour.

On a parting note, I sincerely hope that you will be glad to hear the appointment of our new Commander. I place great confidence in him, and can only hope that this decision will bring success and hope for us all in this terrible time. The new Commander himself, wishes to extend his greetings and deepest apologies to you. He hopes, that as not only Crown Prince, but also your nephew, that you will invest in him your trust and wisdom.

Regards,  
Raoul of Goldenlake

-

**Author's Note: **Ta da! It might come off as a slightly rushed ending, but it was always intended to end here. Feel free to imagine how Alanna & Jon end up; Jon's immediate worry is the civil war, and Alanna's is piecing together anything she can about her past whilst struggling with the possibility of a definite future with Jon. On a final note - I just wanted to express my deepest gratitude to everyone who has stuck by this story and reviewed :) It means a lot to me.


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